


Young

by Yeahyouwish



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Child Death, Hannibal Lecter is the Chesapeake Ripper, Non-Sexual Age Play, Will Graham Has Encephalitis
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-11
Updated: 2019-11-11
Packaged: 2021-01-27 16:37:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,056
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21395317
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Yeahyouwish/pseuds/Yeahyouwish
Summary: Prompt Fill: Will emphasises with a killer that turns out to be a child/early teens. He finds that they’re much too alike to how he was years ago and the similarity + encephalitis makes him semi-regress for a few hours. Little, afraid, and confused, he latches onto the authority figure that treats him kindly and who he trusts. (Hannibal, obviously.)He snaps out of it after a few hours in Hannibal’s care, but the freeing experience of being Little + doted on by Hannibal is one he ends up craving.
Comments: 20
Kudos: 96
Collections: Hannigram Kinkmeme





	Young

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to the wonderful grantaire and uai for being my betas!

When Will walked in, Beverly was saying, “-but who leaves their kids with someone they don’t know?” 

“You never know these days,” Pince said. 

“Yeah, people are crazy. Let their kids do anything they want.” Zeller added. 

“No, they knew the-” Jack turned to see who had arrived, and immediately said, “-Everybody out.” 

The team took their leave, as usual, follow by some uniforms that had arrived first. Will sighed. He needed the most pristine scene possible. 

His brow furrowed, Will looked from one side of the room to the other. Bodies lay scattered across it, various ages. A family annihilator, apparently. 

Something was odd here, but he couldn’t put his finger on it. Not yet. 

Will closed his eyes and time began to reverse itself, wiping the room clean until the children, three, were playing in a corner with an Ipad, and Mom and Dad were cooking in the kitchen. These things would occur, but they hadn’t occurred yet. He would be the cause. 

He stepped back, or rather, time-reversed for him, but instead of out of the house, he sat in the corner with the children. He was their companion. Their friend- how quickly children latch on to each other. And now he would show his true colors. 

He stepped forward. “Mrs. Brushett, can I help in the kitchen?” He asked politely, too politely. A game, that was all. 

“Oh, no, honey, go play. After dinner, I’ll call your mom again, okay?”  
“Sure. Thank you.” 

Mr. Brushett turned around and gave him a wink and a smile. Will turned around. Hm. The knives were on the counter in a block. He could just… take one. He reached out and felt the handle. Yes, this is what he’d come here to do. It felt right, the blade in his hand. It felt like it belonged there… the grip was perfect for him. 

They didn’t even notice, any of them, until Mr. Brushett screamed. Cut just at the back of the knee, blood everywhere. Will smiled as he fell. He plunged the knife into his eye next and pulled it out. That should distract him. Mrs. Brushett screamed and flailed about until he cornered her and stabbed her in the stomach. Bliss, bliss, bliss, bathing in blood. 

This was his design. 

The children were huddled together. He grabbed the one who tried to run and pulled her into a circle, then down to the floor. It was so easy, even though they were about the same size. He straddled her to stab her a few times. Then he got up and took a little walk, slow and purposeful, as they screamed and screamed and screamed and cried. 

“Will? Will!” 

Will turned around. Where was he? There was a strange man here and then- He looked down and saw the bodies of two other children at his feet. In his hurry to get away from the grizzly sight, he stumbled over another and fell backward. He screamed. “Will! Get yourself together!” The man scolded in a whisper. “What did you see?” 

“What?” Will asked. “What’s happening? Who are you?” 

The man’s brow furrowed and he said, “Will, it’s Jack. Snap out of it.” 

Will scooted on his ass away from the body as far as he could. “What’s happening? What’s happening?” He said, his hands in his hair. He realized at that moment that they were covered in blood. He screamed. 

Jack slapped him.  
Will stopped screaming to stare at the man, but he couldn’t understand what had happened. Who was this? “Will, get yourself together and-”

“What’s going on?” A woman had entered, and she looked just as commanding and cool. She saw Will on the floor and said, “Again?” 

A sigh and another voice, “Did he contaminate the crime scene again?” 

“Yeah.” The woman said. 

“He’s still in it.” Jack told them, and they both froze. “Will, you’ve got to wake up. You’re not the killer. You’re Will Graham.” 

“I- I- I know- who? How did? These bodies?” Will stuttered. 

“God, he doesn’t know who he is.” The woman said. 

“I’m Will- I know who I am!” 

“What the hell is he doing?” The curly-haired man asked. 

“I don’t know, but I’m gonna get him out of here.” 

“Don’t touch him!” Jack commanded, pointing a finger at her. But the woman didn’t listen. She gave Jack a look of utmost disbelief, and then stepped forward and put her hands on Will to help him up.

He latched on to her in fear, making it more difficult for her, but she eventually got him up. “God, he’s covered in blood.” 

“Jack, maybe he’s not up for-” The curly-haired man said slowly, but Jack gave him a look that silenced him. 

Will stumbled out of the house and saw two other men, one in a white coat and one in a suit. The white coat one froze at the sight of him, but the suited man stepped forward. “Will? What has happened?” He asked. 

Why was he asking him? “I don’t- I have no…. why am I here?” 

The man reacted almost imperceptibly, his head tilting just slightly to the side, but his eyes betrayed something like curiosity. “What is your name?”  
“Will- you just said it!” 

“Please tell me your full name.” 

“Will- Will Graham.” 

“Where are you, Will?” The man asked. 

“I- I don’t know!” 

“You’re in Towson, Maryland.” The man said. 

“What?” Will said his expression of angry surprise. How could he be in Maryland? Where was his father? 

“What time is it?” The man asked. 

“What time-?” 

“Your name is Will Graham,” The man said, stepping forward, “It’s 1:15 pm, and you’re in Towson, Maryland.” 

“I- I know who I am!” Will nearly shouted, but tears were already falling. Frustration and fear had caught up with him. The man stepped forward. 

“How old are you, Will?” He asked. The woman shifted somewhat, betraying surprise. 

“I- I’m thirteen.” Will said through his tears. 

The man opened his arms and Will, seeing that contact was offered, stepped forward into them. He embrace was warm and soft and kind. 

“Did he say thirteen?” The man in the white coat asked as Will sobbed into the suited man’s chest. 

“Yes, he’s regressed as a result of his empathy with the killer. The killer must be a young man.” 

“What?” The woman said incredulously. 

“A kid did that?”  
“It appears so.” The man said. “Do you remember me, Will? I’m Dr. Hannibal Lecter.” 

Will shook his head and managed an answer that had just evolved beyond a whine. “I don’t know what’s happening please tell me what’s happening.” 

“You sometimes copy others, Will?” 

Will stepped back, his jaw set, but he nodded. 

“You were brought here to see through the eyes of another person. While in the room you convinced yourself that you were that person, and touched the people he killed.” Will sobbed and struggled with the tears for a bit as Hannibal continued to talk. “But you did not do this, Will. You need to find your way back to yourself. I’ll help you.” Hannibal hugged him again and Will devolved into sobbing uncontrollably. 

The two men from before came out, and the first words out of the curly one’s mouth were, “He contaminated the crime scene again.” 

The white-coat man sighed. 

“He doesn’t remember anything that happened, Jack.” Hannibal said, still holding Will. “I think it’s best that we return to my house. It’s closer, and I can help him better from there.” 

“Take him.” Jack said. 

Hannibal stepped back from Will, but only to lead him kindly to a car, a very nice car, and help him into the passenger’s seat. If Will had been paying attention or had been less distraught and confused, he might have noticed his reflection was that of a man, not a boy. 

When Hannibal and Will arrived, Hannibal led him to the front door and took him inside. “Do you recall this place?” He asked. Will shook his head. 

“Did I lose my memory? What happened? Where’s my dad?” 

Hannibal considered. He didn’t even know the answer to the third question. He decided to answer the first one. “You didn’t lose it but buried it. It’s still there, under the layer of personality that you gave yourself in order to see what needed to be seen. You can recover it, but you must find your footing.”  
Will stared a him blankly. 

“Come into the dining room. You’ve been there perhaps the most.” Hannibal said, and led him there. Will looked around at the herb garden at the side of the room, and fireplace, and the long table. 

“You eat here?” He asked. 

“Often with company.” Hannibal said. 

“Yeah… obviously.” 

Hannibal grinned at him. “You are my company most often of late, Will.” 

“What?” Will asked. 

“You’ve grown a lot, Will- you will soon recall. It might not be wise for us to push you any further than this. But if you are hungry, I can make you something to eat.” 

Will noticed for the first time that he was starving. “Yeah.” He said quietly. He followed Hannibal into the kitchen. 

“What would you like? I can make some fish, I have chicken, pork- perhaps some Thai Pork Salad? Salmon fillet?” 

“That… um. Yeah. Sure.” Will picked up the bottle of olive oil and turned it over in his hands. Interesting that he was still doing things like that- playing with anything he could pick up. 

“Which?” Hannibal asked politely as Will went for the salt next.

“I could … actually, I could kill a PB and J.” Will said, then blushed a little. It was difficult for Hannibal to see because he was on the other side of the counter, but Will seemed to have rolled onto the balls of his toes and was bouncing. Nervous. It was difficult for a moment for Hannibal not to smile. 

“What is that?” he asked. 

Will stared at him in disbelief. “A PB and J?” 

“Yes.” 

“It’s… you’re kidding, right?” 

“I’m afraid not.” 

“A peanut butter and jelly?”

“Ah, a sandwich,” Hannibal said. He then turned around and took some things out of the refrigerator. He piled the bread on the counter with a bread cutter and knife. “You can slice the bread.” He said, putting the loaf into the bread cutter. 

As Will carefully sliced bread, looking at the device he was using with deep concentration, Hannibal was heating butter on the stove. Will turned to look at him, holding some bread slices in his hand and giving him a curious look. Hannibal simply said, “Peanut butter and jelly.” 

Will turned back around and put the peanut butter and jelly on the sandwich. Right as he finished, Hannibal took the bread from him and buttered it on one side. He laid it in the pan and put a streak weight on top of it. Will stepped closer and Hannibal held out his arm to block his path, but a few seconds later he realized what he had done and removed it. 

Will wasn’t a child, not really. Surely however he had regressed, he was capable of watching Hannibal cook. But it was already too late. Will had honored Hannibal’s unspoken request and was watching him doubtfully from a few feet back. Hannibal flipped the sandwich, showing off a bit with the height, and smiled back when Will grinned. 

When the bread was done, Hannibal flipped it onto a plate and took the next sandwich from Will. He cut them diagonally on the plates when they were cooked. “Take this to the table.” Hannibal said, and Will followed his order without question as Hannibal poured some milk. When he brought the glasses out, he saw that Will was hesitating in the doorway, unsure where to put these things. Hannibal set the glasses down across from each other and Will followed his lead. They sat down and bit into their sandwiches. Will’s eyes fluttered closed as if he had never tasted anything so decadent. 

After a while, he put the sandwich down, looking at the plate. He looked back at Hannibal. “I know you.” He said.  
“That’s good.” Hannibal replied. 

“You’re my… psychiatrist?” 

“Yes.” 

Will nodded slowly, then picked up his sandwich and took a bite again. After he swallowed he said, “This is so good.” He took another bite. 

Hannibal wasn’t enjoying the experience as much as Will but he was having a grand time watching Will act like a child. It was interesting to see how many of the pieces of Will’s personality had been something he picked up in the past. Well, Hannibal was sure that the encephalitis was more to blame than Will’s empathy disorder. 

When they finished, Hannibal asked if Will would like to go home. He hesitated for a moment, then said, “I’m not… I think I’m… I’m not thirteen.” 

“No, you aren’t.” Hannibal admitted. 

“How old-?” He didn’t finish. 

Hannibal studied him for a moment, then said, “Thirty-seven.” 

Will nodded slowly. Hannibal didn’t make another offer. “I’m tired.” Will said. 

“Would you like to sleep here first?” Hannibal asked, standing up to clear the dishes. Will followed him into the kitchen. 

“Do you have my otter?” He asked. Hannibal paused midway loading the dishwasher. 

“I’m sorry?” He asked politely. 

Will leaned sadly on the countertop, still clearly confused about what was happening. “No.” he said. 

“Your otter?” 

“My… I have a… I had an… otter.” 

“A stuffed toy?” 

Will blushed.  
“I’m not sure you possess it anymore, Will.” Hannibal said. There was a short stretch of silence, then Hannibal said, “Let’s have you rest here, for now.” Will nodded. 

Hannibal led him into the guest room. He went to close the door behind Will, but Will stopped him with one hand. Hannibal opened the door again. 

“Will you stay?” He murmured in question. 

Hannibal nodded. He sat in a chair as Will took off his shoes and laid on the bed, facing Hannibal. After a few minutes, Will sat up again. “It feels weird.” He said, shaking his head. 

Hannibal sat on the bed next to him and Will relaxed significantly. “What’s strange about it?” 

“I don't know… the bed is too big or…” Will didn’t finish. He laid his head on Hannibal’s shoulder, to Hannibal’s surprise. Then Will closed his eyes. Hannibal stayed upright, unmoving though placid, and soon Will was slowly sliding down his shoulder. He jerked awake when he almost fell. Hannibal put one hand on Will’s head and guided him gently down into his lap. 

There Will closed his eyes, and his breathing deepened and evened out. Hannibal found that he was stroking Will’s hair, but it seemed pleasant for both of them, so he continued, allowing himself to close his own eyes and be alone with his thoughts. 

About thirty minutes later, Will woke up, slowly. He blinked a few times and stirred. Then he looked up at Hannibal and felt him freeze. His eyes were closed, but he opened them to look at Will. 

Will wasn’t sure what to do. He didn’t want to spook Hannibal by being aggressive about the affection, but he couldn’t lead him to believe he was still… He settled for, “Did you make me a PB and J?” 

Hannibal’s mouth twitched. “Yes. I hope this means I’m speaking to a man, and not a child.” 

“God, it seems too far away.” 

“You weren’t yourself.” Hannibal reminded him.

Slowly, Will sat up. They settled on the bedside by side for a while, then Will said, “I’m sorry.” He was incredibly embarrassed, to the point that he felt he probably couldn't show his face to Hannibal again this century. 

“There’s nothing to be sorry for.” Hannibal responded. “Do you feel well enough to go home?” 

Will hesitated. A part of him- an unnaturally and alarmingly large part of him- had almost asked if Hannibal could drive him. “Yeah.” 

“Perhaps you shouldn’t drive.” Hannibal replied. 

Will nodded, too quickly for his own tastes. Then, to cover up his mistake from himself, he said, “I’ll call a cab.” 

“No need. I can drive you.” Hannibal said. 

Will looked at him. “I… I’ll be fine.” He said, burning with embarrassment. 

“I think it would be best if I drove you, Will.” Hannibal replied more firmly. He stood. “Come.” He said, holding out his hand for Will to take. Will stood up on his own instead, trying to distance himself from the burning need to let Hannibal care for him. 

Hannibal played classical music all the way there. As Will sat there, he thought about how that should help stabilize him. Hannibal’s presence, his hand in all of this, the regal things he did, should help Will keep himself in check. It didn’t seem to be working this time. 

When they arrived, the dogs came bounding out. Will greeted them and then went to feed them, but Hannibal came inside, too, and started helping him prepare the food. As suddenly as he’d had the need to care for his animals- the animals he had rescued himself, trained himself- he felt just as strong a need to let Hannibal handle this. Even more alarming was the desire to sit in a chair or on a cushion at his feet and watch him do it.

Will resolutely forced himself to follow through on feeding the dogs. He thanked Hannibal more than once, trying to communicate politely that he could leave Will alone here. It was unlike him not to say things directly and he knew that it was because he didn’t really want Hannibal to leave. 

After he fed the dogs, he pulled a chair up to the fireplace and began to build a fire; something he would never have done as a child. He needed to break free of this mentality, and the best way he could do that was if he preformed actions that were adult, even if they felt wrong to him.

“What did you see, Will?” Hannibal asked. 

Will paused. “I didn’t see anything. I was.” He said. Then he began to strike the matches to light the paper and wood. 

“You’ve become the subject before.” 

“Not like that.” Will argued. “You saw.” 

“I saw.” Hannibal conceded. “Did you identify with him more strongly than the rest?” 

“He… was me. A few decades ago.” Will closed his eyes and buried his face into his hands.“Everything I felt… seemed so real, so authentic.” He said. “Like I was… Like I had been born as him.” He looked up. “I was born as him- there are- there are differences, of course, but… the things I fear. About myself. All of the elements I have myself... All of them were there.” 

“That is the nature of your disorder, Will.” 

“No!” Will said, too aggressive. Then he leaned back in his chair and sighed. “Not like this. I don’t know how to describe the feeling.” 

“You’re still struggling.” Hannibal commented. 

“No, I’m, I’m free and clear now.” 

“I sense you want to give your responsibilities over to me. Yet you want me to take my leave as well.” 

“I… it was. Nice.” Will said. He had admitted hard truths to Hannibal many times before, but this one stung his ego like nothing else.

“I see.” Hannibal said. 

“It’s strange.” Will said. He picked up the matches and struck another, lit the paper.

“It’s fine to be strange, Will.” 

“No that was… that was strange. Strange in a way that I’m not… usually strange.” Will said. 

“Many people enjoy taking on the personality of a child and leaving the cares of the day to someone else. A caretaker, or father figure.” Hannibal told him. 

“And I’m… not… one of them.” Wills said. Finally, he looked at Hannibal. “It’s weird. It’s too weird for me.” 

Hannibal crossed his legs and Will had a sudden feeling like they were in his office. They probably should be for this conversation. 

“Was it sexual?” Hannibal asked. 

“What?! No!” Will spat back. He hadn’t talked to Hannibal like that very often since their first meeting. 

“I’m only trying to understand what aspect of the experience was uncomfortable for you, Will.” Hannibal said. “Remember, I offer no judgments.” 

“It wasn’t.” Will reiterated. 

“And everything you felt was platonic, non-romantic?” 

“Yes.” Will said. “It was just… it felt…” He closed his eyes, then opened them and stared into the fire. 

“Why judge yourself so harshly? From your account, there’s nothing to imply attraction, no particular, Freudian, feeling that you are trying to avoid or that we should talk about.” 

“No, nothing like that.” Will said quietly.

“I want to understand what bothers you about this, Will. If there was no sexual or romantic aspect, then your unburdening was innocent. Freeing. It speaks to no social or moral debauchery.” 

Will considered this. “I don’t know.” He said, but as he did he realized that Hannibal had been on the receiving end of this. “How was it for you?” he asked casually. Then he realized that his wording could have been better. 

Hannibal didn’t mention it, though. “It was of interest, to be sure.” He said. Will looked quizzically at him. “As much as I could see that you were an adult, your behavior led me to certain actions as well. I embraced you to comfort- I rarely do that with adults. I stopped you from approaching the fire as I was cooking- I wouldn’t have done that to you as you are now.” 

Will’s mouth twitched with amusement. “It was one of the first things I remembered- you putting your hand out like that.” 

“Did someone in your life do that frequently?” Hannibal asked. 

Will sobered. “My dad.” He said. “When he was driving and he had to stop quickly.” Will half-heartedly threw his hand out, imitating the gesture. 

“That’s a common reaction in parents.” Hannibal remarked. 

Will licked his lips and Hannibal found himself studying them with fascination for those few seconds, as he often did these days.

“So you didn’t… it wasn’t too strange for you.” Will said more than asked. He was quite relieved, though not because this meant it would be on the table for another time- well, a small part of him did jump to that conclusion. But actually, Hannibal’s involvement had been otherwise non-consensual. Though it hadn’t felt sexual, there was something in the back of Will’s mind that told him he needed consent from the other party to engage in role-play like this. 

“No.” Hannibal replied. 

Will hardly heard him. This new line of thought had brought him to Jack and his team. Oh, no. He sighed. “If Jack’s half as smart as he seems, he won’t ever let me back in the field.” He said to the fire. 

Hannibal dropped his eyes since Will wasn’t looking at him, then said. “Perhaps he won’t. It seems to be affecting you.” 

Will half scoffed and half chuckled. “Oh, yeah. That’s… that’s uh, a polite way of saying it.” 

“I’m sorry, Will. I should be your stability.” Hannibal said. 

“Well. You were.” Will said, then he mumbled, “Today at least.” 

“If you find yourself willing to explore this as an interest, I would be happy to assist you, Will.” Hannibal said. Will tried not to let his mind and heart leap for joy. “But I think for now you should avoid looking into it, other than to see about your otter.” 

“I want to get a second opinion.” Will said: his way of agreeing. He ignored the mention of Powell for now- he knew where to find him, but he didn’t really want to talk about stuffed toys just now.

“Very well.” Hannibal said. That could spell trouble for him. Well, after all, it might be time to douse the fire. Especially if it allowed Will to explore this new and just as interesting side of his personality. “And now I must insist, as my final order to you today, that you eat some dinner, and get some rest.” He said, standing up. 

Will nodded, still not looking at Hannibal. “Are you?” He asked. 

Hannibal didn’t need complete sentences, though, it seemed. “I am going home.” 

“Thank you, Hannibal.” Will said. 

“Yes.” Hannibal put on his coat and went out into the dark Virginia cold.

**Author's Note:**

> Reviews  
Hey peeps, I gotta admit, I really need reviews. Not because I'm like "I won't post without them!" But I actually, truly, will give up thinking that no one cares if I post or not. Most days I can keep going knowing that reviews don't define my work. But some days... not so much. 
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